Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

A Baby Story Part 8

We have now arrived in that reproductive purgatory known as
month nine. Feet are swelling, moods are swinging, and our child has launched
an all-out assault on my wife’s internal organs. Nesting has also reached a
crescendo as I found my wife in the garage re-arranging my shop vac and
crescent wrenches. Apparently our infant son will be spending large amounts of
time there.

It appears that this nesting come bundled with extreme
attention deficit disorder. This means that my wife is only interested in
completing irrelevant tasks with unnecessary urgency. She will begin the task
of laundry only to find herself with a label maker in one hand and a stack of
alphabetized cookbooks in the other. On the plus side, if this trend continues
all of our board games will be stacked in ascending order by original copyright
date.

One of the biggest issues is getting my wife comfortable for
bed. At the time of this writing, the accessories required for this task
include: six regular pillows, two brands of lip balm, a Seinfeld DVD, a cup of
ice water, a heating pad, an iPod touch, a white noise machine, and a body
pillow the size of a miniature pony all placed in a very specific configuration
depending on which side she wishes to face. Even this amount of pageantry
offers only a brief respite until her tiny bladder necessitates that she
extricates herself and begin the entire process from scratch.

These restless evenings are punctuated by weekly checkups
whereby the doctor inspects for cervix dilation. For those that don’t know,
this is a rather unpleasant process whereby a physician is in very real danger
of losing their wristwatch. At some point during the visit a nurse will utter
the phrase, “your urine looks good today” and you will be issued a baby formula
swag bag.

Perhaps the most devastating aspect from a husband’s
standpoint is the hormone-induced insecurities. These tend to escalate until
you find yourself reassuring your mate that despite how they feel no one has
mistaken them for a penguin shoplifting a country-ham. Such conversations
become tricky because an ill-prepared spouse can quickly find themselves staring
down the statement from which there is no return: “You are just saying that.”

Responding to such a declaration must be avoided at all costs
because each and every logical response has an equally illogical retort that
only moves you closer to pleading with her through a recently- slammed bathroom
door. Let me lay out some common responses and how they are typically received
by a pregnant woman’s ears:

What You
Say (Option 1): “No I’m not just saying that! I really mean it!”

What She
Thinks: “That Is exactly what someone who is lying would say!”

What You
Say (Option 2): “I am not sure what you want me to say here. It seems as though
nothing I can say would convince you of my sincerity.”

What She
Thinks: “I cannot believe he is too slow-witted to lie without buying himself
some time.”

What You Say (Option 3): “Honey, look in my eyes and know
that you are the most beautiful woman in the world to me and pregnancy has
bestowed a breathtaking ethereal glow upon you that leaves me cherishing the
very day God brought you into my life.”

What She Thinks: “That is the most touching lie I have ever
heard!”

My wife is gorgeous and pregnancy has done nothing to
diminish that, but in order to avoid the aforementioned conversational
mine-field, I have chosen to simply state my case here:

Honey, you are beautiful inside and out, and I am forever
grateful that you allowed me to impregnate you despite your familiarity with my
shortcomings. I cannot wait to begin the journey of raising our inevitably
near-sighted offspring together in our moderately-sized home. You will be an
amazing mother and I consider it a privilege to spend the better part of an hour
tucking you into bed every night.

Don't worry - soon, she will have her body will belong back to only her and she will be able to stop and sleep dead in her tracks in seconds of lying/sitting/or standing still. You will be both be fine.Rhonda